Pretty Boy
by crimson-fishbonez
Summary: Jinx has never been treated like a real person, and he doesn't trust anybody after being left alone as a kid. But on one particular mission, he happens to stumble upon Jak. And stuff happens. A lot. [Contains yaoi later on. w00t]


_Woah. A yaoi piece! AT LAST! Waaaai! Took me so long to do! [nurses poor type-bruised fingers] This is for demyrie. She wanted a fluffy JakII yaoi story. I'm not sure how many chappues will be in this becaus I am not clever XD. ANYHOO. This is for Demz! [points]_

_AAAAAND it has an [cough] original [splutter] pairing. Um. Well. It's Jinx x Jak. DON'T KILL ME! (Jinx being the guy from the sewers, y'know?) Anyway. For teh lovers of yaoi: I present you this piece! Why? 'COS JINX DON'T GET WRITTEN ABOUT ENOUGH! [sobs]_  
--

Warning: Contains traces of yaoi. Booyakka.  
Rated for GUESS WHAT?! yaoi and bad language. Tut tut.  
ANND all of JakII belongs to NaughtyDog. Curses. I WILL JOIN IT WHEN I RULE THE WORRRLD!

_So here we go; Laydee and genooman, "PRETTY BOY" part one!_

* * *

**Pretty Boy**

- chapter one -

Hey there. Name's Jinx. I'm whatcha might call a 'heavy' for Krew, my boss. I'm an indispensable team member... not, ah, that I like my job, as such. It's just the kinda thing I'm good at. Used to, y'know? It's my talent, and believe me, Krew needs someone as talented as me on his side. I'm an expert in pyrotechnics. Best there's ever been.  
  
Namely, I blow things up.  
  
And NO, I'm not a kamikaze/mass-murderer bomber. (In fact if I was that, I could hardly be the best one there's ever been, now, could I?) Could say that I, ah, clear the way for people.  
  
As... such.  
  
ANYWAY, now y'know a bit about me and where I stand, you might be able to guess why I was down a stinkin' sewer, with stinkin' slime swilling 'round my already stinkin' boots with my two stinkin' friends, as you might call 'em. The thin, jumpy, jitterbug of an ex-KGuard is called Grim, or Grin or something. The big, clumsy one is Mog. That's all ya need to know about THEM.  
  
'Cos this story is about ME.  
  
Well. To start it off...  
  
Jeeeeeesus. Kinda hard to get goin'... How should I put it? Uh, jus'... gimme a second...  
  
Oh fer God's sake! Does it matter? You're gonna find everything out sooner or later! That's why you're here anyway!  
  
Well. Let's just put it like this; I've never... I've never really mattered to anyone. Sure, I'm the most valued and respected demolition expert via the use of TNT, but, uh... I'm talking emotionally here. Like, oh-Jinx-hold-me-tight-til-the-nasty-thun der-goes-away emotionally. I never had a family. Grew up in an orphanage, right? And believe me, life in an orphanage isn't as rosy as you might expect.  
  
Whiiiiiich makes it pretty shitty. Don't go there. Seriously, kids. DON'T. GO. THERE.  
  
Nobody's ever fallen in love with me either. Ha, not really very surprising, eh? A shortish, thin, lanky guy, with greasy hair and a pissy nature. Who might possibly blow up the house by accident, I might add. Not exactly the most popular choice of the Lonely Hearts column, you're thinking.  
  
Bingo.  
  
And that's nothin' to be happy about.  
  
So anyway, after that almost completely nonsensical burble, I'm getting' back to the story in hand.  
  
"Jeez... I don't like it down here..." said Mog (for, what, the hundredth time?), flinching away from (horror of horrors!) his shadow, terror trudging slowly across his stupid pasty face. I rolled my eyes and leant against the cold, slimy walls, ignoring the slime dripping down the back of my tunic. I was annoyed. It was SIX in the morning, we had been waitin' for over TWO HOURS, and Mog was getting' on my nerves. Big-time.  
  
Okay, so I'm not the nicest of guys. But... huh. Being alone does that to you. Patience is NOT my strong point. Anybody who knows me can tell ya that.  
  
"Dun worry, Mog." Grim, not me. "Someone's gonna come and escort us." He didn't sound too sure, though. I mean, what escort'd've kept us waitin' for over two hours in THIS hellhole?  
  
I snorted. They turned to look at me expectantly. They always listen to me; after all, I am the boss of this group. I raised my eyebrow. "Where is he, anyway? He'd better not be late..." I growled, eyes narrowing. I don't like being helped. I do NOT need to be patronised, thank you very much. I said as much to Krew, but he started going on about how important the mission was and all that shit. 'Course, us young, fit, strong men can't look after ourselves. WE need a stupid teenager to protect us. From, what, the spiders?  
  
Grim shifted nervously from foot to foot. I could see he wasn't that comfortable down here. But he wasn't gonna say anything about it because he knows how important the mission is. I kinda like Grim. He always puts others first. And he always listens. He doesn't talk much, and that's fine by me! It's good to have someone to moan to who won't contradict you or ask difficult questions.  
  
Suddenly, we heard the rumbling of the lift. The slime on the walls, which had until now been dripping slowly, suddenly cascaded down in putrid waterfalls. Mog jumped out of his skin, gave a half-strangled yelp and tried to hide behind Grim. Which was kinda DUMB seeing as how Grim was twice as small as him. Go figure.  
  
"Who is it?" he moaned, burying his face into Grim's back. Grim sighed. Yes, even Grim has his limits.  
  
"Who d'ya think?"  
  
"Um..."  
  
"Mog, you're really priceless sometimes..."  
  
"Quiet!" I barked, as the rattling stopped and the doors ground open. We turned to face them, Mog whimpering behind Grim. "Here comes pretty boy..."  
  
A young man came striding in. He was wearing a simple blue tunic and white trousers. Big brown combat boots tapping a rhythm on the echoing floor, in time with the pattering slime drops, he walked towards us. He had a pair of silver goggles pushed up onto the top of his head, from which green-blonde hair was cascading. A bloody huge morph gun strapped to his back added menace to his appearance. And, perching on his shoulder, leaning on his head and fiddling with its own goggle-strap was... a rat.  
  
Which was slightly weird. To say the least.  
  
Glancing at the others, I saw that they were completely dumbstruck. At least, Mog was. I didn't know 'bout Grim, 'cos he always wears his old KGuard helmet, so you can never tell. But I was GUESSING he was dumbstruck. He's very dumbstrikeable. I decided it was up to me to do the talking. And show him who was boss, naturally.  
  
I sized him up, trying to hide how much he impressed me. I was right; he WAS a pretty boy, but he radiated some kinda talent, and I was immediately wary of him. Staring him straight in his face I let him have it. I'll teach him to be late again.  
  
"'Bout time you showed up!" My voice snapped through the silence. He looked a bit taken aback, and I smirked inwardly. Turning on my heel, I walked past the other two, towards the lift-platform section. "Okay. Let's do this!"  
  
Smooth, Jinx. That'll learn 'im.  
  
The other two immediately started introducing themselves to the rookie. Their names, how many kilos of high explosives were strapped to their backs, stupid stuff like that. I sighed. Does it matter? No really, is it THAT important?  
  
We finally arrived at the lift-platform. I suppose it wasn't really necessary; it was just a little fall really, but I wasn't takin' ANY risks. Obviously Blondie didn't share my train of thought. He jumped over the edge suddenly, and landed like a cat. I was kinda disappointed; in a weird way, I wished he'd broken his neck. One less thing to feel threatened by.  
  
Because, frankly, I don't trust nobody. I realised long ago that trust doesn't really exist in my life. I can't trust ANYBODY. Nothing comes of it but misery and loathing.  
  
...And I'm NOT paranoid. I just know what I'm talking about.  
  
He pricked up his ears, scanning the passage. Suddenly his eyes widened and he turned to whisper to... whisper to the rat?  
  
_Yes, of course he did, Jinx. We believe you. Now, would ya mind telling us what you have been SMOKIN' recently?!  
_  
Heh. I should really, REALLY stop talking to myself.  
  
He looked down the revoltingly dirty passage and his clear blue eyes narrowed. I saw his lips mouth the words we all hate.  
  
_Metal Heads._  
  
Now that's just PEACHY. Thank you, Krew, for not telling us WHY we needed help. We can't go without pretty boy NOW. Three pistols between us. If we'd known that there were Metal Heads down here, we wouldn't've gone without a dozen Peacemakers and, hmm, maybe a Piercer Bomb or two at least.  
  
And I, uh, couldn't quite help noticing that fricking big morph gun that kid was holding. Maybe it wouldn't be THAT bad havin' him with us...  
  
Hell. I'd rather take on the Baron with four limbs tied behind my back than go down there without backup. So we're stuck with him.  
  
Fun, huh?  
  
The kid leapt down the passage and out of sight, slinging the gun into his hands and charging forwards with a do-or-die look on his face.  
  
Things weren't lookin' too good by now. I slammed my fist against the lift button, and we started to trundle down.  
  
Unearthly shrieks and gunshots suddenly smashed the silence of the sewers, and a great tide of fear swelled over us, engulfing us in it's freezing tides.  
  
_What's happened to him?  
  
Is he alright?  
_  
Huh? Wait... this is ME thinking? A second ago I was hoping he'd go screw himself! I'm not usually like this...  
  
_W-was that scream human?!_  
  
Oh god. What the fuck's happening to me?! Damn my fucking over-fucking-reactive imagination!! As if I would ever think that in my normal state of mind! You know what, I probably am on something. I probably got amnesia and can't remember taking it. Yeah, yeah that's it!  
  
'Cos I'd never worry about anyone I'd only just met if I was normal me!  
  
"Argh! Fuck you!!!"  
  
I'm so scared.  
  
And...  
  
I dunno why...  
  
I guess I don't want anyone to die. Especially not a kid! I mean, it must be pretty shitty being a heavy at, what, twenty-two. So imagine it at eighteen...  
  
Geez. He SO won't make it.  
  
"W-wh-what's goin' o-o-o-on?" Mog asked, pure terror in every nook and cranny of his voice. He reminded me of a yakkow: big, stupid, hairy and a coward by nature. Seemed to fit him just right.  
  
"Come on," I snarled through my teeth. "He might need help." I was pretty sure that Nancy Boy would be smooshed to pieces on the opposite wall by now. We're talking METAL HEADS here! Rawr, let me ingest you and spit out your bones! kind of things. And they are very strong. VERY strong. Not fun.  
  
And I didn't want to, but I just... freaked. You're not gonna get us, fuckers!!! every sense screamed, as I gritted my teeth. And then I ran out from behind the pillar ready to shoot at the Metal Heads, knowing that I'd be about a hundred times safer jumping into the bath holding an electric toaster than I was now. But I hate Metal Heads. And I was scared. So I just went at it, before I chickened out on myself. I shot round the corner, whipping out my gun and turned...  
  
...to see Blondie reloading calmly, walking away from the pile of metallic spidery things he'd just finished with.  
  
Spooky or what?  
  
He was looking at me in a weird way, like sheesh, you really thought I couldn't handle them? God, I must look like a total prat. Jeez. This guy's got the magic, man.  
  
Remain cool and composed, Jinx. Cool and composed. Don't leap on him shrieking "Oh my god! Yer ALIIIIIVE!!" No. Nonononono! Cool... and... composed...  
  
"There y'are! Why don'tcha make yourself useful?" I joked, as the other two edged slowly towards us, still obviously freaked by the noise and everything. Mog suddenly tripped over his own feet and, with a grunt of surprise, cannoned into Grim, knocking him head over heels. The blonde kid raised his eyebrows while I rolled my eyes and sighed. Then he turned to go down the passage, but as he turned, I caught sight of his face.  
  
Okay, the way I'm leadin' up to this makes it sound like it's a big thing. I suppose it happens all the time. But. This is ME we're goin' on about. Poor deprived widdle me.  
  
He winked at me. You know, like I was an actual human being or something? I've never been treated like a that before. I'm treated as a robot by Krew, an Ogre by Grim and Mog, and a Funny Man by everyone else. But now I'm...  
  
...I'm a person.  
  
Okay, okay, so he doesn't know me very well, and he might not like me if he did, but it felt so good, to be normal and be in on a joke with someone!  
  
"They're good guys..." the boy said, smirking as Grim tried to untangle himself from Mog, without much success. "...but they're a bit... hm... blundering..."  
  
"You c'n say that again!" I said. Somehow (Superhuman powers? Or experience from playin' Twister excessively?) Grim had managed to get free, and was limpin' towards us. Mog was sittin' down with a dazed, vacant expression on his face. Myes, everything was back to normal with those guys.  
  
Which just made it more depressing, 'cos I knew that nothin' at the moment was normal with me.  
  
I turned around and started to walk onwards. The mission wasn't over yet. Hell, it'd hardly begun! It loomed before us, dark and hideous.  
  
...but, somehow, I had an idea that it would be much, much more bearable with Jak helpin' us along.  
  
After all, I'm beginning to like 'im!


End file.
